


Stuck On You

by maiNuoire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banter, First Kiss, Fluff, Future Fic, Gettingtogether, M/M, Mentions of Hale Pack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 02:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10584507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maiNuoire/pseuds/maiNuoire
Summary: Derek finds something unexpected stuck to his car window, he knows who put it there, but the why is a bit of a mystery.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a car with plate CORA### and I had the dumbest idea, and this happened.
> 
> I am drawing the stickers, as I can't for the life of me find a good website to do it, so I'll post those here when they're done!

"Stiles, what did you do to my car?"  
  
"You know, Der," Stiles says with feigned offense, practically skidding to a stop in the parking lot outside Derek's house, "I am hurt that you'd just automatically assume it was me." His poorly suppressed grin proudly announces his total lack of innocence.   
  
Derek raises an unimpressed eyebrow and uncrosses his arms to gesture at the rear window of his car with an annoyed flick of his wrist.   
  
Decorating the glass is a small army of stick people bearing a variety of accessories, one obnoxious figure for each member of the pack.

 

“Come on, big guy, I know you love the gas mileage or whatever, but you've gotta admit the hot soccer dad mobile isn't any where near as sexy as the Camaro was. It needed a little _something._ So I bought you a present.” Stiles’ is beaming and casually leaning into Derek's space.

 

“And the stick with the _tail_ that says ‘Dad’ under it? That's supposed to be me?” Derek is still pissed, his inflection incredulous, but Stiles can see a hint of amusement in the way his lips twitch and his eyebrows tilt out of a furrow.

 

Stiles’ grin grows even wider. “Well, obviously.” When Derek scowls, he adds “Come on, Der, if parent teacher conferences were still a thing in college, you know you're the one that would get called in when our little delinquents misbehaved.” Derek’s brow quirks at the use of ‘our’, but Stiles doesn’t seem to have noticed it. “And the pu- the kids all go to you for help with their cars, you help pay their tuition, you intimidate all of Isaac's potential dates. You're like, their wolf papa.”

 

Despite Stiles’ absolutely _gleeful_ explanation, Derek remains unmoved. He darts another glance at the rear window and looks back at Stiles with a gleam in his eye that makes Stiles squirm.

 

“So, if I’m the pack _dad_ , what does that make you?”

 

Stiles rubs at the back of his neck and shuffles his feet. “Me? I’m just the human.” It sounds like a question, but Derek ignores it.

 

“I mean, the _kids_ , as you called them, go to you for life advice, and help with classes, and to complain about me. You all make cookies together, and when they need reassurance about non-werewolf stuff, you’re who they call first. That sounds like maybe you’re the pack mom, Stiles.” Derek is openly grinning now, Stiles’ discomfort making the corners of his mouth twitch like he’s fighting a laugh.

 

Stiles’ reaction is immediate and _spectacular_ . “Hey!” he yells, full of indignation. “First of all, that is some gender stereotype bullshit you just said, Hale. Second, my cookies are _amazing_ , and I don’t hear you complaining about them while you practically inhale them on movie night! And C, you should _be so lucky!_ ”

 

Derek’s smile has reached frankly unsettling proportions. “So, our little sticks aren’t holding hands because you want to raise three rambunctious werewolves together? Or do you just want to role-play?”

 

Stiles’ mouth opens to argue, but no words come out for a long moment. “ _Holding-_ we aren’t… _Role-play!_ Wha-” he looks closer at the stick figures that span most of the rear window, and visibly deflates, muttering a seething “God _dammit_ , Erica.”

 

“I didn’t do that.” Stiles says lamely, gesturing vaguely at where the wolf-man and the police officer (Stiles projected a few years into the future for his stick) are most definitely attached at their tiny circular hands.

 

Derek takes a step closer, cocky smile melting into something softer as he gets closer to Stiles. “So, this wasn’t your completely obnoxious way of asking me out?”

 

“No! I would ne- wait. What?” Stiles’ eyes narrow in confusion and Derek tries and fails not to find it adorable.

 

They’re practically chest to chest now, and looking right into each other’s eyes, Stiles’ breath is coming slightly fast, and his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. Derek follows the movement deliberately, letting Stiles take in how Derek’s eyes trace along Stiles’ mouth. “Stiles,” Derek says softly, somehow managing to make it sound like a fond ‘ _Come on, don’t be stupid’_. His eyebrows are raised encouragingly, urging Stiles’ brain to connect the dots.

 

Stiles’ eyes search Derek’s face, and when Derek settles a hand tentatively on Stiles’ hip, Stiles breathes out a soft “Oh” and smiles.

 

“Yeah, Stiles, ‘ _Oh_ ’. Welcome to the conversation.”

 

Stiles shoves playfully at Derek’s shoulder, then decides to leave his hand there. “Derek?” he says seriously, “Do you want to hold hands with me?” Derek laughs and presses the sound of it into Stiles’ mouth. When they pull away several minutes later, both slightly dazed, a look of dawning realization crosses Stiles’ face. “And I am most definitely _not_ going to call you ‘Daddy’ like, ever.”

 

This time, Derek’s laugh is too much to muffle with a kiss, but his eventual “Thank god” is mostly lost when Stiles pulls him closer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Your kudos and comments keep me motivated! 
> 
> Come see me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/poetry-protest-pornography)  
>  and flail about these two nerds, feminism, and all sorts of nonsense!


End file.
